Melodies of Spring
by MoogleTerra
Summary: FF6  It was the anniversary of Rachel's birthday, and also, of her death. Was he dreaming? Of…her?  Somewhere inside Celes's mind, she hoped that he was, and hoped that he wasn't at the same time. How in the world could she compete with a dead girl?


**Melodies of Spring**

**A Locke/Celes One shot?**

**A/N:Set post-game. On Rachel's birthday.**

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They were in the meadow. With all those wild flowers, tall, tall field grasses that sprouted little white blooms when not consumed by animals, and a few scattered trees that produced fruits like plums and apples. The clearing that had once been in the very middle had become overgrown, but still was indented, giving away where what was once there.

Not that Locke needed any help finding it. He had been to that meadow outside Kohlingen oodles of times, with and without her. It was a place that held memories for him, ripe with spring year round due to the warm climate and also ripe with all those terrible feelings that stung whenever brought up. Those feelings that you just cannot forget, no matter how damn hard you try, with or without the aid of liquor.

However, today of all days, on this anniversary of electric feelings and warm winds, he brought another to the meadow. It tore him up inside doing this.

Celes was so darn stubborn sometimes, insisting that she would not leave him alone about it unless he brought her along.

It was the anniversary of Rachel's birthday, and also, of her death.

All those years ago, when he had wanted to propose marriage to that angel that held his heart, on her birthday, he had failed in protecting her. In that cave, on that rotting, bridge that groaned under his weight, she died. Proving her undying love by saving his miserable life.

She was the only thing that had mattered to him back then, and this still continued on somewhat. Back then, he was a misfit, a charismatic thief who lived alone in his grandmother's house that had rusty shingles.

Now something mattered in his life, protecting the new friends who made him feel like he wasn't some outcast, dumbass thief who killed his girlfriend. Well, he thought he killed her anyway.

Locke had the same ritual every year, on her death anniversary, to go to that meadow, where she and he spent much of their time together, and let nostalgia take over.

And also, extreme grief that wracked his spine with shivers from his fits of sobbing and screams. He had planned on doing the same today, traveling to the meadow about two miles outside of the village, then laying in the grasses, weeping and sometimes sleeping. Dreaming of those old memories from his childhood filled with Rachel's sweet child's voice and holding his hand so tight.

This was a tradition that he did not let a soul in on, to tread on a man's despair of lost love. Edgar, his best friend since age sixteen, knew of the day, but never asked about it. He knew where Locke went on this day, and knew what he did without asking a thing. The king knew because he seemed able to read Locke's mind.

He went down the familiar path through the grasses, moving swiftly, feeling like a damn traitor for some reason. Celes followed behind, whispering to herself about how she wanted to take some of the flowers back to the airship with her to help liven up the place. Locke stepped into the overgrown clearing, breathing in the scents of ever spring flowers. He sighed quietly, knowing that the blond behind him would hear, and went to the middle, sitting down in the plants.

He closed his eyes and fell back into the grasses, feeling the sun light hit his eyelids, warming them. He heard movement: Celes walking closer to him, her boots making thud noises on the ground.

Even though it was rude of him, he had not spoken to her much since they arrived. He was afraid of what he'd say, what he'd regret.

Celes sat down opposite him, and looked up at the blue sky with the white puffy clouds that faded into a misty bit of fluff.

She was aching to ask what was so special about this place, all she knew was that it had to do with Rachel's death or something to that effect. She had tried conversation occasionally, but only to receive a grunt or "uh-huh" for answer.

She was about to try again, when she saw Locke's eyes leaking tears down his traveled face, his eyes closed though, and twitching.

She reached a hand out for his arm, in an effort to comfort the man, to receive no response once again. He let her hand remain where it was, too wrapped up in his thoughts she assumed.

So she let her hand stay, but adjusted the rest of her body so that she was sitting right next to him, watching the tears flow down his cheeks in hot streaks. His hair caught the sunlight just so, showing the gold that developed from traveling a lot, sun bleached streaks in his normally brown hair.

_It was here, when we were twelve, that we confessed to one another. Or rather, she said it first to me. She was always so sure of her feelings, whilst I was not. It was evening, and we had just finished up a day of talking and playing with flowers. _

_She looked up at that darkening sky, a few stars peeking out at the planet, with the moon rising in the distance. _

"_I think I love you, Locke." Rachel said as if it were just a fact, like she was saying, "Apples grow on trees."_

_I was a little startled, not sure what to do. I remember licking my lips, and kneading that old bandanna I was about to tie on my forehead in my hands. _

"_I think I love you too…Rachel…" I said back, shutting my eyes really fast, not sure what she would say. I heard her giggle, then felt something really soft on my mouth. When I opened my eyes, I saw Rachel's face right in front of mine, her lips touching mine with inexperienced kisses. _

Celes plucked a flower or two, playing with the velvet petals while watching Locke cry silently. Was he dreaming? Of…her?

Somewhere inside Celes's mind, she hoped that he was, and hoped that he wasn't at the same time. How in the world could she compete with a dead girl? Why would she want to?...

Locke escaped that memory thankfully, feeling briefly what Rachel's lips felt like. That memory was his favorite and always made him cry.

He felt guilty for letting Celes come with him. It was _their _meadow, and to let someone else trod upon a place like this was…

But even though his heart felt all the more guilty thinking this, he knew that Rachel was _dead_. And he had to let go sometime. He wasn't ready to do that yet, but knew that he needed to. As Edgar told him time and time again, he needed to move on, or else he wouldn't feel truly happy ever again.

People cared about him. Celes cared about him. Though it pained him to see her struggle with her feelings, and he avoided thinking about what she might feel for him, he knew what the blond felt for him. He could see it plain as day, in her ice blue eyes, and her shy little smile that she saved for him only.

The thief sat up abruptly, wiping his face off with his gloved hand, and stood. Celes nearly fell over from the sudden movement from her friend, and shot him a confused glare.

He held a hand out for her, wanting to help her up. She took it, and gave him another inquiring stare.

"Let's go, Celes. We're done here." He told her gently, pulling her along after him through the swaying grass.

He wasn't ready to let go of what had once given him a reason to live, but he knew he should try. Little by little, he could maybe work towards something new.

Someday, he could reciprocate Celes's feelings. And maybe, someday, he would feel alright again. Rachel would never leave his heart, but maybe he could squeeze someone else in too.

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**Tee hee! I hope all you Locke/Celes liked this! Review?**


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